


Impressed

by sinestrated



Series: Past Tense [2]
Category: The Mandalorian (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Deepthroating, M/M, Married Couple, Pre-Season 1, Size Kink, Strength Kink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-31
Updated: 2020-03-31
Packaged: 2021-02-28 18:14:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,035
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23411479
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sinestrated/pseuds/sinestrated
Summary: Din rewards Paz for a show of strength.
Relationships: The Mandalorian (The Mandalorian TV)/Paz Vizla
Series: Past Tense [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1675399
Comments: 13
Kudos: 230





	Impressed

**Author's Note:**

> Well, my hand slipped and Din Djarin is now the galaxy’s biggest cockslut. Oops?
> 
> For this series I’m running with my headcanon of Paz being basically a slightly older Mike Colter/Luke Cage with dreadlocks.

“Oof!” The wall slammed up against his back and Paz couldn’t help the startled laugh. “What’s this for?”

Din just glared, helm falling to the ground with an irreverent  _ thunk  _ that Paz would point out, really he would, just as soon as he figured out why his husband had all of a sudden decided to end their perfectly pleasant daylight stroll by dragging him down into the Nevarro sewers to the unit they shared.

“You,” Din hissed then, yanking Paz’s helm off so that suddenly he was blinking in the bright light of their bedroom, taking in his husband’s sweaty hair and flushed face without the filter of a visor. “You have no fucking  _ right _ to be so...so  _ you! _ ”

“Uh, sorry?” He really had no idea what was going on. They’d just been heading through the bazaar on the way back to the Covert and then of course there was that near-miss he took care of, but it wasn’t that big of a deal so what the hell had Din all hot and bothered like this?

The younger Mandalorian growled and surged forward, crowding Paz against the wall to seal their lips together. Paz took him easily—not like making out with Din Djarin was exactly a hardship—and pushed his tongue into his husband’s mouth, a warm flush of arousal dripping down his spine when Din whined and arched into it, a telltale hardness already poking at Paz’s thigh.

Never a man to turn down an opportunity, he reached back to grope Din’s ass, squeezing and kneading the firm muscle as his husband sighed and twined their tongues together, rocking his erection against Paz’s leg for a moment before finally drawing back. “You,” he repeated, looking a little dazed, a beautiful pink flush slowly blooming down his face and neck, “You knocked over a fucking  _ tank. _ ”

Oh. So that’s what this was about.

Paz almost laughed. He remembered, of course: the sudden roar of a vast engine breaking through the low buzz of the bazaar, the terrified screams, turning to see an old rusted junker come off its treads and barrel toward a group of civilians. Most of them scattered but one didn’t quite move fast enough, a little girl paralyzed by fear as she stared up at the metal monster bearing down on her and he hadn’t even thought about it, just burst into a hard sprint and rammed the junker as hard as he could, feeling more than hearing ancient metal groan and screech as it toppled over in a cloud of dust.

Which, okay, was kind of impressive when he thought about it, but obviously Din remembered it differently. Because that junker, though heavy, was most definitely not even close to being a tank, maybe only a tenth the size of a Jawa sandcrawler. And Paz had had to activate his Rising Phoenix to get some extra boost, and his shoulder still hurt like a bitch and he’d carry the bruises for at least a couple weeks and it  _ really  _ wasn’t that big of a deal.

See, Paz knew he was a big guy. Given his rate he had no choice, really, you couldn’t lug around both a K4 heavy machine gun and a Swhitzka T-92 longrifle without the muscle to back it up. So yeah, he was strong, but he also wasn’t  _ superhuman _ , and sometimes he couldn’t help but wonder at how other people like Din seemed to assume that he was, that somehow he could go around wrestling dewbacks and tossing speeders like one of those shining heroes from the old Kalanthan-Gaiga holos. Sure, he threw his weight around just as well as any heavy infantry guy, but that didn’t mean he could kick a duracrete wall and not break every one of his toes.

...Not that he was about to admit any of this, of course. Not when it had Din hot and panting for it, dropping to his knees to tear at the clasp of Paz’s pants.

His husband freed his cock in record time, the cool air of the room on his hot skin making him gasp. Paz groaned when Din leaned in to nuzzle along the shaft, flicking his tongue out for a taste. Already half-hard to start with, he quickly felt his length fatten up to full, throbbing attention as the younger man dragged his tongue from base to head, flicking it over the slit and moaning like he was tasting something exquisite. Gods,  _ this _ was what got him writhing and desperate? Paz needed to go around knocking things down more often.

That train of thought promptly derailed, though, when Din reached up to cup his balls, weighing and rolling them in his palm as he kissed down the length of Paz’s full, thick shaft. Paz hissed, shoving at his husband’s shoulder to force him back even as he widened his legs and reached down. “Fuck, baby,” he growled, palming beneath his cock to press it up against his stomach, “Is this what you want?”

Din’s low, desperate moan was more than answer enough. Long fingers—still gloved,  _ fuck _ —scrambled to shove Paz’s pants further down his thighs and then Din was diving in, bumping his nose over the nest of thick pubic hair before opening his mouth to suckle Paz’s sac, licking and tonguing at his balls. Paz hissed, toes curling inside his boots at the wet heat of it, brain shorting out for a moment at Din’s soft, frustrated whine as he tried to suck both of Paz’s balls into his mouth at once, face shoved up beneath Paz’s cock as his tongue worked him like a pro.

“Oh, fuck.” Paz wound his fingers in the short strands of Din’s hair and tugged. His husband resisted at first, a thin, almost pained whimper wrenched from him as he fought to remain buried between Paz’s legs, still licking desperately, greedily, but Paz grit his teeth and pulled harder and Din submitted with a moan, tilting his head up to peer at him through lidded eyes.

“More,” he whispered, licking his lips, cheeks flushed and forehead damp with sweat, “Paz,  _ please... _ ”

Paz shook his head. “You fucking  _ slut, _ ” he grunted, tightening his hold on Din’s hair just to hear him whine as he took hold of his cock with his other hand. “Don’t move, baby, don’t you fucking move.”

And Din didn’t. He stayed where he was, kneeling at Paz’s feet with his mouth open as Paz slowly brought the head of his cock to his husband’s lips. He didn’t push in though, just held it there as he pumped the shaft with his fist, groaning at the tight pressure. A bead of precome formed at the tip and he moved his cock in a slow circle, smearing Din’s lips with slick and his husband just sighed and took it, leaning forward as much as Paz’s hand in his hair would allow, following Paz’s cockhead with his tongue to lap up every last drop.

It was almost enough to make Paz come on the spot. It never failed to amaze him, how someone as put-together and sarcastic and untouchable as Din Djarin could be so wild behind closed doors, so wound up and desperate that he’d do basically anything for a mouthful of Paz’s cock. It really made Paz the luckiest damned man in the galaxy, history of oppression and persecution and war be damned, because he was the only one who got to see this: Din on his knees, eyes hungry, mouth open and just waiting to be stuffed so full he couldn’t breathe.

It would take a much stronger man than Paz to resist that.

The long, low moan Din let out at the first push of Paz’s cock past his lips was truly obscene, his husband’s eyes fluttering closed as Paz fed him the thick, full length of it inch by throbbing inch. He took it too, no slowing or resistance as he opened his mouth wide to accommodate Paz’s considerable girth, pretty lips stretched almost to their limit and Paz swore at the wet heat that engulfed him, the tight squeeze of Din’s throat around his shaft and the head of his cock sending waves of pleasure tingling up his nerves. Gods, but his husband was  _ good _ at this, almost no gag reflex after more than two years of practice, Din swallowing him down in one slow, smooth motion until Paz’s balls brushed against his chin.

He sighed and paused there for a moment, petting Din’s hair as he stared at his husband’s mouth sealed around the base of his cock, losing himself briefly in the heavenly sensation of Din’s throat muscles fluttering around his shaft. The younger man struggled to breathe through his nose, tears leaking out the corners of his eyes as he gripped the backs of Paz’s knees, but even though Paz knew his husband would gladly choke on his cock until he passed out, he wasn’t looking to hurt him. He never would, no matter how much Din seemed to want it.

Sighing, he began to withdraw, tightening his grip in Din’s hair as a warning when he felt his husband resist. Din whined and gave in, letting Paz pull his cock almost all the way out and moaning when he dutifully thrust back in, stuffing Din’s throat for a few seconds before pulling back so he could gasp for air. They found a rhythm this way, Din’s eyes rolling back in his head as Paz fucked his mouth over and over, hips working as he rutted his own bare cock against the steel greave over Paz’s calf and gods, if only they could do this forever, if only Paz could lock them both away in this room for eternity and have that pretty, greedy mouth take him deep like this again and again for hours, days, fucking  _ years _ . Din was his and his alone, only he got to see this, Din Djarin reduced to nothing but a set of holes so hungry to be filled, open and gaping and desperate for it—

Beneath him Din made a high-pitched, broken sound. Something bumped and jerked against Paz’s calf, followed by a telltale warm wetness and Paz moaned, hauling his cock out of Din’s mouth with an obscene  _ pop!  _ so he could peer down at the pale white streaks decorating his greave, soaking into the dark material beneath. “Holy shit, oh fuck, did you just—”

But Din just whined and dove forward again, cramming Paz’s cock into his mouth and Paz swore and let him, sinking both hands into his husband’s hair to hold him in place as he fucked forward into that wet, hungry heat. “Oh fuck,” he gasped, as his belly tightened and his balls seized up, “Fuck, baby, take it, take all of it, I wanna see—”

And holy shit but Din did. His husband’s hands around his knees locked down enough to hurt as he pulled back just enough so that the first hot spurt spilled directly on his tongue. They both moaned at that, Paz’s whole body shuddering as he stared down at Din, mouth open to provide a clear view of every white spatter, every pale splash that coated his tongue and his lips and the roof of his mouth.

It seemed to go on forever, Paz’s vision whiting out a bit even as his balls kept spasming, squeezing more come out the head of his dick to paint the inside of Din’s mouth. When at last he slumped over, panting, one hand clamped to Din’s shoulder to keep from falling over, his husband just blinked up at him with a dazed, pleased smile, a thin dribble of white running down his chin as his throat worked, swallowing everything Paz had given him.

“Y-You...” His legs finally gave out and Paz slid down the wall. Din was there immediately though, crawling in close to nuzzle beneath his chin and Paz sighed and wrapped his arms around him, stroking gently down his husband’s back even as his heart threatened to pound right out of his chest. “You’re amazing,” he murmured, tilting Din’s chin up to kiss him, biting at his lips, tasting himself everywhere. “I love you, I can’t even, so fuckin’ hot...”

Din just laughed, kissing back with fervor before settling against Paz’s chest, body heat clear even through the layers of armor and clothes. “Glad you approve,” he said, voice even raspier than normal, and Paz shook his head.

“We didn’t even get undressed,” he said, peering down at his armor, now covered with sweat marks, and the dark, wet patch below his knee. 

Din snorted, one hand pushing up beneath Paz’s cuirass and tunic to rest against his stomach. “Maybe don’t be so fucking strong and perfect next time,” he said, “and we won’t get into these situations.”

“Mm, I dunno.” Paz nosed gently at Din’s sweaty hair. “See any other tanks lately?”

His husband’s bright laugh almost covered the soft knock at the door, followed by a tentative voice. “Uh,  _ Buir? _ ”

Oh, shit. Small mercies: at least he’d remembered to lock the door before Din jumped him. “Yeah, Roan?”

“Um.” Their thirteen-year-old foundling sounded vaguely strangled; Paz could just see him hovering outside the door, cheeks red as a tomato beneath his mop of dark hair. “I, uh...there was someone here to see you? This lady from the market, says you saved her daughter or something. She had this bag of like, food or something, I dunno, and she wanted to give it to you directly but I said you and  _ Buirok _ were, um,  _ busy _ —” Roan tripped over the word and coughed, like he wanted the ground to just open beneath him and swallow him up. “So, uh, she left it? With me? And Ruun wants to open it but whatever’s in there is like,  _ squirming _ and she won’t listen when I said to wait and, uh. Help? If, you know. You’re done?”

This last was said in a mix of hopeful and horrified, and Paz chuckled and let his head fall back against the wall with a  _ thunk. _ Leave it to Roan to be stuck with something like this. At least it wasn’t his sister though; Paz loved the twins equally, had done ever since he adopted them at six, but Ruun when she wanted to get to the bottom of something was a force to be reckoned with.

In his arms Din shifted just enough to press a kiss beneath his jaw before turning toward the door. “Stick the bag in the pantry and lock it,” he called. “We’ll be right out.”

“Right. Okay!” Light footsteps darted away like they were being chased. Paz sighed and peered down at his husband.

“I’m rather worried that our Covert is apparently so  _ not _ covert that a random woman from the bazaar is able to find us,” he said.

Din just shook his head and laughed. “Tell that to  _ Ijaa’lor _ ,” he said. “I rather like that she lets us out every once in a while. Gives me more chances to witness you in action.”

“Mmhm.” Paz reached down to pinch Din’s ass, huffing a laugh at the indignant yelp. “Well, if it earns me this every time then I guess you’d better start taking me with you on those bounties. Any chance you’re going after a Wookiee? A Herglic? Hell, I’ll even brave the slime to throw a Hutt if that’s what’s gonna get those legs op— _ ow! _ ”

It didn’t actually hurt but he rubbed his head anyway, grinning at Din as his husband rolled his eyes and got to his feet. It would look a lot more stern without his flaccid cock hanging out the opening of his pants, but Paz, magnanimous, chose not to comment as he allowed Din to pull him to his feet.

“We’d better clean up,” his husband said, sighing down at the mess they’d made. “I think we’ve traumatized Roan enough.”

“Yeah.” On a whim Paz leaned forward, smiling when Din met him halfway to press their lips together in a soft kiss, gentle and chaste and brimming with love. “You take the first sonic.”

Din sighed into his mouth. “Sucks that we can’t both fit at the same time.”

“Maybe I’ll make that my next project,” Paz answered. “You know, when I’m not knocking over tanks and rescuing little girls.”

Din snorted, shoved him, and headed for the fresher. Paz watched him go, taking a moment to admire the swell of his ass as he moved, then turned to look for their helms. Hopefully they hadn’t gotten too scratched up. He’d hate to have to explain to the Armorer—again—why they needed repairs.

It was a small price to pay, though, for moments like this: not even necessarily the sex, though that was extraordinary in and of itself, but just having Din notice him, pay attention to him, love him and appreciate him for who he was. Most people wouldn’t expect it given his size, but much of Paz’s life up to now had been characterized by being overlooked: first as the dark-skinned Vizsla foundling, then as the soldier good for little more than shooting a gun, then as just another tired, beaten-down survivor in the darkness of the sewers. That Din had found him there and  _ chosen _ him, not just as a friend and a comrade but as a partner for life...it was a lot. It was certainly more than Paz deserved.

Still, he’d take it, he thought as he picked up his helm, taking a moment to brush some dust off the dark blue paint. For as long as Din was willing to have him, Paz would take it. This was what it meant to love. This was what it meant to trust in someone more than yourself.

For Din Djarin, Paz Vizsla would move continents, planets, the whole damned universe if he had to. 

As the sonics in the fresher whirred to life, Paz looked down at his helm and allowed himself a small, quiet laugh. Maybe, at the end of the day, he was more like those heroes in the holos than he thought.

**Author's Note:**

> A short glossary of my made-up Mando'a terms is available in the description of this series.
> 
> **Permissions:** All my works, including this one, can be translated and podficced without first asking my express permission. I ask only that you credit me as the original author and provide a link back to the original work. For anything else, please ask first. Thanks.


End file.
